


seeing lemons

by rhythmic



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 20:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhythmic/pseuds/rhythmic
Summary: don't worry, sweet maggot... i was wearing socks.-OR-i fall in love for the first time. it goes about as well as you'd think.





	seeing lemons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is not a love letter.

this is not a love letter  
—everyone says we’re too young for that—  
but there was so much i wanted to say  
and so, so little time.  
so i’m writing it instead.

this is not a love letter,  
but you’re all i can talk about,  
all i can think about.  
i’m quiet these days, after all.  
my father laughs and calls me a lovestruck teen,  
my mother thinks i’m depressed,  
and my friends know more about you  
than they probably should.

this is not a love letter,  
but you are beautiful.  
there are different kinds of beautiful,  
and yours is quiet but stunning to behold.  
your beauty hides behind self-hatred and scars  
but it is there, and one day you will see yourself  
the way we do, and you will understand  
how narcissus fell in love with his own reflection.

this is not a love letter,  
but i adore everything about you, even the things that you hate.  
i love your soft skin, the slope of your shoulders,  
your voice that sounds just a bit different over the phone.  
i love the curve of your smile, the dip of your collarbone,  
the ears you hated so much, your laugh on still water.

this is not a love letter,  
but i cannot forget the nights when you’d wait until it was safe  
to make your way down the ladder and across the cabin floor.  
when you were finally lying beside me, i could feel everything —  
my head pressed into the crook of your neck,  
our legs slotted together, my pulse jumping in my throat,  
your fingers laced in mine, the steady warmth of your body,  
the even rise and fall of your chest.  
whispers against skin, muffled laughter,  
the thrill of shared body heat and close proximity.  
it was more than that to me. 

this is not a love letter,  
but i wish i’d kissed you when i had the chance.  
multiple chances, really, too many to count.  
and i hope you know how much i wanted to.  
in the end, it was my own fear that stopped me.

this is not a love letter,  
but i miss you and it hurts.  
your lovely face haunts my dreams  
and i hear your voice in every empty room.  
i think i know what he meant now—  
the pain is softly insistent,  
and nothing i do makes it stop.  
it is lodged so deep in my chest  
that i fear it may never leave.

this is not a love letter.  
when the fire i lit in you burns out  
—and i know it will, if it hasn’t already—  
promise me you will remember this summer  
and the girl who lived for the sound of your laughter.  
promise me you will remember us,  
whatever we were.

this is not a love letter.

this is not a love letter.

this is not a love letter.


End file.
